


Belonging to Reasonable Men

by syynthetical



Series: Complications [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Gibbs will own your ass, M/M, McNozzo friendship, implied but not explicit McGee/Charlie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:51:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syynthetical/pseuds/syynthetical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tony almost makes a mess of their friendship. </p><p>Minor spoilers for season 7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belonging to Reasonable Men

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Aristotle: "Jealousy is both reasonable and belongs to reasonable men."

The ping of the elevator drew Tony’s attention away from his screen. McGee stepped into view, followed by a slightly shorter guy, dark curly hair, dressed smartly but obviously a geek too. Curly was talking and Tim was listening, smiling and ducking his head like a shy southern belle. Tony stopped tapping his pen on the desk.

“Who is that?” 

Ziva didn’t look up, fingers clacking on her keyboard. 

“Who is who?” she asked distractedly. 

“The guy who’s got McGeek on tenterhooks over there.”

Ziva glanced briefly over her shoulder towards the elevator and then doubletaked. 

“Is he _blushing_?” 

“Yuh huh.”

They both fell quiet as the two men drew near. 

“This is where you work?” Curly was asking.

“Yes,” McGee said with a broad smile. “And these are my colleagues, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo and Special Agent Ziva David. Guys, this is Dr Charles Eppes, a forensic mathematician on loan from the FBI.”

Ziva smiled warmly. 

“What’s a forensic mathematician?” Tony asked, letting his smile curdle nastily at the edges.

Vance loomed into view, cutting off any reply.

“Dr Eppes,” he said, offering a hand. 

“We’ll be in my office, if you'd like to follow me,” Vance said, leading both Curly and McGee away. 

Curly looked over his shoulder with a brief apologetic smile. “Nice to meet you all.”

“See ya, Charlie,” Tony said, possibly a bit too sourly because Dr Fancypants glanced back in bemusement as they walked away.

Lips pursed, he turned back to his monitor only to meet Ziva’s gaze.

“You are jealous,” she said with intense amusement. 

“No I am not,” Tony replied.

Ziva stood in one graceful movement and came round her desk to peer at him.

“Yes you are. You’re jealous of McGee’s man brush.”

“Man CRUSH and don’t be ridiculous.”

She tilted her head thoughtfully.

“Why would McGee wish to crush him?”

“Who is McGee crushing?” Gibbs asked as he rounded the corner.

“No one boss.”

“Good. Grab your stuff, we’ve got a dead marine.”

 -----

“Nice of you to join us, McBrokeback,” Tony said as McGee ducked under the cordon an hour later.

McGee looked nonplussed.

“Huh?”

“You know? Brokeback Mountain? Gay cowboys? Or in your case nerds?”

Frowning, McGee looked to Ziva but she just shrugged.

“Seriously? Neither of you have seen that film?”

“I’ve seen the film, Tony, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Tony thinks that you are romantically involved with Dr Charles Eppes,” Ziva said by way of explanation.

“Oh,” McGee’s frown deepened and he tilted a sceptical look at Tony. “Really?”

“You two were looking awfully cosy together this morning, McMarthaStewart. There was blushing. It was nauseating.”

“I was not _blushing_."

“DiNozzo, get your butt over here” Gibbs called from the other side of the clearing.

\----- 

“What?”

“So I know you’re going to mock me for this, but I kind of forgot we were supposed to go see that film tonight and I agreed to take Charles out because it’s his last night in town....”

“You’re standing me up, for Dr Swankypants.”

“I’m really sorry, Tony.”

Tony clutched his chest in mock hurt then rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll live, McGee. There are plenty of ladies willing to fill my evening in much more entertaining ways.”

“So you’re not mad?” McGee asked.

“Uh NO.”

“Good.” McGee smiled and grabbed his coat. “Night.”

“Goodnight, McGee,” Ziva called after him.

Tony opened his mouth.

“No I will not come and see the film with you,” Ziva said immediately.

“I wasn’t even going to ask,” Tony lied.

\----- 

Two weeks later and Tony was bored. His date had cancelled. Ziva was out of town for the night. Gibbs had been in a mood for the last week and his fraternity brothers were on spring break without him. Again. McGee was probably playing his stupid computer game. The guy needed to socialise more. The apprehension on McGee's face when he opened the door was not entirely flattering.

“Tony?”

“I brought beer and zombies, so get your butt off the computer game, McJoystick.”

McGee sighed but he was hiding a reluctant smile. 

“Sure why not, I was bored anyway.” He stepped away from the door to let Tony in. Tony clapped him on the back.

“Atta boy! Beer and zombies, how could you possibly resist?”

“Apparently I can’t,” McGee muttered, longsuffering.

McGee wasn’t actually that bad to watch gore films with. He found them funny and could argue about zombies in pop culture as long as Tony, even if he tended to get sidetracked by the science behind it. Who watched zombie films for realism? Pfft. Now McGee was skinny he couldn’t hold his beer though, which was funnier than it really should be. Four hours in and the guy was practically sinking into the cushions on his side of the couch, eyes barely open. Admittedly Tony wasn’t faring much better.

“Tony – “

“Yeah?” Tony asked, voice muffled by his arm.

“Tony - ?” 

With some effort he pulled his arm away.

“I said yes, Tim, what is it?” 

“Why’re you here?” 

Tony blinked.

“Beer and zombies.”

McGee snorted something that sounded like ‘jello’.

“Jello?” Tony repeated, confused and slightly alarmed.

“You’re jealous.”

“What – why would I be jealous?”

“’Cause I ditched you for Charlie.”

“I am not jealous of Dr Swankypants.”

Somewhere across the other side of the couch McGee chuckled.

“Yeah you are.”

“Did you sleep with him?” Tony heard himself say.

In the background, Romero’s living dead were breaking the windows of the department store. Deafening silence surrounded the couch. Abruptly more sober, he risked a glance. The look McGee was levelling at him was verging on unfriendly. Tony shrugged.

“Ah come on, I’m curious.”

“It’s none of your business,” McGee said, words less slurred now.

“Don’t ask, don’t tell ain’t an issue anymore, McGee” Tony said.

“No it isn’t. And it’s still none of your business. It shouldn’t even matter.”

“Ah, come on. We’re buddies aren’t we?”

“Geez, Tony – no, okay?”

“You’re winding me up,” Tony said. “There’s no secret here.”

“Maybe there is, maybe there isn’t. You’ll never know,” McGee said with a hint of smugness.

The idea rose up in his mind without any real conscious planning, a half formed idea of pulling the ultimate prank on McGee mingled with some unidentified, satisfying urge. He did it without thinking too much more about it – reached out and yanked McGee forward. The rest was all instinctual, kissing didn’t require any conscious thought. It was a good kiss, Tony realised as he parted his lips and deepened it. He hadn’t expected McGee to be quite such a good kisser –

He was kissing McGee.

Even as he shot backwards McGee was shoving him away, eyes wide. 

“What - what the hell -?” 

“Wow, that was – “

“Weird,” McGee supplied just as Tony said “- weirdly hot.”

Clearly his brain still wasn’t working properly. Tony groped for a normal response. He tried a grin.

“You’re so easy, McGee.”

McGee looked unconvinced. They stared at each other.

“You know, it’s late. I’m gonna go – “ Tony said, getting unsteadily to his feet.

Tim stayed where he was on the couch, still looking wide-eyed and confused. 

“You can’t drive.”

“I’ll get a cab.”

“Ah. Okay.”

An awkward silence descended so Tony grabbed his coat from the chair.

“Yeah I’m going to go now.”

“Okay. Bye,” McGee said behind him as Tony most definitely did not flee.

 ------

“What is going on?” Abby demanded, arms crossed.

Tony winced.

“Can we not do shouting this morning? Please...”

“You’re hungover, McGee’s hungover and both of you are acting super weird.”

“McGee’s always super weird.”

Abby’s eyes narrowed.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tony sighed.

“Have you got anything new or not, Abby?”

She hesitated, clearly wanting to say something more but then let it drop.

“No.”

“Right,” he said and took his leave. “Gibbs says call him when you do.”

“Don’t I always?”

The elevator doors were closing when she called out, “I will find out you know!” 

Tony groaned and let his head thump back against the cold metal wall.

Back in the bullpen, Ziva was watching him searchingly, just as she had been since the moment McGee had arrived this morning, looking pale and uncomfortable.

“Where’s McGeek?” Tony growled.

Clearly this couldn't go on for a moment longer.

“He went for coffee.”

\------ 

“Tony,” McGee said warily, backing up slightly like Tony was going to do something ridiculous like jump him right there and then in front of the whole coffee shop.

“We need to talk,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Um – okay –“ McGee said and then stood there expectantly, as if they were going to have this particular conversation in public.

“Not here, you idiot.”

The benches in the park weren’t exactly private but they were better than the office, less chance of co-workers lurking around the corner; less chance of Gibbs lurking round the corner. Tony’s blood ran cold at the thought. By mutual consent they took seats at opposite ends of the bench. Neither of them spoke. Tony had no idea what to say. An apology didn’t quite seem to cover it. He opened his mouth to speak when McGee beat him to the punch.

“Listen, about last night -I’m – flattered, I guess, but I don’t really think of you in that way.”

Tony blinked, disbelievingly. 

“Wait. Are you trying to let me down gently?” 

McGee shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “Well, yeah.“

“McGee, I have like zero interest in you.”

“Tony, you kissed me,“ McGee said with infuriating logic.

“Keep your voice down,” Tony hissed and there was a flash of something – hurt – across McGee’s face. “So, what? You think I’ve been lusting after your scrawny ass?” 

“Well you were acting jealous and then – uh yeah. What else was I going to think, Tony?” 

Tony paused, mentally replaying the night before. He winced.

“Okay, you may have a point there. It does kind of look bad.”

“Thank you,” McGee said in that infuriating way he had. Tony glared at him.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re right, McGuffin.” 

“Okaaay,” McGee said, sounding sceptical. “So then, why’d you do it?”

Damn it. That was the million dollar question and Tony had no answer. He shrugged.

“It seemed like it would be funny at the time.”

“Huh,” McGee said - and then, “it really wasn’t funny.”

Tony sighed. “No it wasn’t.”

Mercifully, Gibbs chose that moment to call and tear them both a new one, saving them both from any more awkward conversation. Not that the rest of the day wasn't still painfully awkward, because it was, but at least McGee had lost his tense unhappy look and was actually _talking_ to Tony again. And in the end the case was wrapped up, so it wasn't a bad day per se. Tony was actually going to get to go home for a second night in a row. Ziva had already jumped ship when McGee shouldered his bag and headed for the exit. 

“Goodnight boss,” the slightest hesitation and then, “Tony.”

“Night, McGee,” Gibbs said. 

“Night,” Tony added.

McGee nodded uncomfortably at him.

Even if Gibbs hadn’t cottoned on before, there was not a chance that he'd missed that exchange. As quietly as possible Tony started packing up his own things, hoping to make good his escape before – 

“Tony,” Gibbs crooked a finger without looking up from his paperwork.

Tony winced, walking over to Gibbs’ desk.

“Yes, boss?”

Gibbs looked up.

“What’s going on with you and McGee?”

He opened his mouth and shut it again. 

“It’s complicated,” Tony said apologetically.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

“Go and fix it. Now,” he said.

McGee was almost to his car when Tony caught up with him. 

“Hey,” Tony said stupidly.

McGee’s hand hesitated on the key fob as he glanced between Tony and the car. After a moment he turned away, pressing the button. The beep of the car unlocking seemed overly loud in the almost empty parking garage.

“Come on then,” Tim said, still not looking in his direction.

The ride to McGee’s house was uncomfortably tense. Fix it. _Easy to say, not so easy to do, boss_ , Tony thought. Once there, McGee made a beeline straight for his fridge, fishing out two beers. 

Tony’s head pounded at the sight of it.

“Uh, no thanks. I’m still not feeling so good.”

“You want to have this conversation sober?” McGee said levelly.

“Good point.”

He alternated picking at the label and taking long sips, over aware of McGee contemplating his own bottle on the other side of the table. 

“Why were you jealous?” McGee asked.

“Why were you doing the scorned woman act when I was hanging out with McCadden?”

McGee contemplated this for a moment and then nodded.

“Yeah, okay.”

Taking a breath, Tony steeled himself and pushed on.

“You were right though, it shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. So I’m sorry, for – you know. Pushing you. Pulling a stupid prank.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Just like that?”

“Yep. Thanks, for apologising.”

“Don’t tell Gibbs I did,” Tony said.

McGee huffed a laugh. More silence.

“Can’t believe you tried to let me down easy,” Tony said lightly. “I mean come on, I’m straight. I mean 100%, as an arrow, all about the ladies, straight.”

“Yeah, yeah.” McGee said with a tentative smile. 

The silence was easier this time.

“We didn’t actually do anything,” McGee said cryptically, after a while. “Isn’t that what you wanted to know?” he added in response to Tony’s questioning look.

"Oh." _Oh._ “Why all the secrecy then?” 

McGee shrugged.

“I was curious, I guess. And embarrassed. Thirty’s a bit old for an identity crisis.”

“Huh,” Tony said. 

They both went back to their beers.

 

The door to the bedroom slammed open and Tony found himself shoving McGee up against the wall, biting at his mouth, at his neck while McGee threw his head back, his hands sliding under Tony’s shirt. The feel of hard planes and smooth skin under Tony’s palms, unsettlingly weird and intoxicating at the same time. The bed gave under them, McGee pressing his head back into the pillows as he hooked his legs around Tony’s waist. Skin sliding against skin, wrong but still good and then McGee was arching up underneath him, cursing. White lights behind his eyes as Tony gasped out his own release. McGee had already fallen asleep when Tony came down, and he had just enough time to wonder how bad the morning after was going to be before he was asleep too.

Pretty fucking bad, as it turned out. McGee had already hared it by the time Tony had woken up - he could hear him moving about in the kitchen. They were already late for work, Tony’s clothes were a mess and somehow, _somehow_ , he had to leave this room and face McGee before driving home, changing, driving to work and facing every other one of his colleagues. Right now he had to leave the room. It was undignified to keep hiding like this. He straightened up and threw the door open.

When he reached the kitchen McGee froze like a deer in the headlights. 

“Uh –“

“Ah –“

“I – “ Tony said, gesturing towards the front door.

“Uh, yeah – “ McGee said with a nod.

This time Tony definitely fled.

The home – change – drive to work thing gave him way too much time to think. Gibbs was going to kill him. Gibbs was actually going to kill him. Fix it, the boss had said and instead Tony had made it approximately 13 million times worse. Gibbs would kill him and then Abby and Ziva would cut him into long strips, glue him back together and then kill him all over again. Ziva. Man, as if things weren’t already a mess there. Things had cooled off, both of them playing it safe while Ziva found her feet as an agent, as an American citizen. There’d been an understanding though, the promise of more in the future. Tony wasn’t ready for that to go away, and certainly not for some weird-ass thing with McGee he didn’t even understand. McGee was his friend. Possibly even his best friend these days. Or at least he had been.

Tony winced. Oh yeah, he’d messed up big time.

\----- 

The office was ominously quiet. As if someone was watching out for him, both Gibbs and McGee were absent.

“Hey,” he said.

“Good morning, Tony,” Ziva said with a triumphant smile. “You are late.”

“Thanks, Queen Obvious,” Tony replied, throwing his bag down beside his desk and opening the file waiting for him. 

“You owe me one. I covered for you,” Ziva said with an arched eyebrow.

“Thanks. So I’m not in trouble?” Tony asked.

“Should you be, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked as he rounded the corner.

“No, boss.”

“Good,” Gibbs paused by his desk. “Hope your haemorrhoids are okay,” he said with a smirk.

Haemorrhoids. Right.

“Yeah they’re fine. Thanks for asking, boss,” Tony said, glaring at Ziva as soon as Gibbs turned away to answer his phone.

Ziva was wrinkling her nose, trying not to laugh. 

“Gear up, you two.”

“What’ve we got?”

“The usual – dead marine. McGee’s meeting us there.”

 -----

It was actually not that hard to avoid someone when you were working. There were things to be done. All Tony had to do was avoid looking at McGee at all, not say anything and focus completely on photographing, cataloguing and generally processing the scene. Unfortunately, McGee must have had the same idea because it didn’t take long for both Gibbs and Ziva to start giving them funny looks. Actually Gibbs’ were more kind of pissed. Really pissed.

“Gee, DiNozzo, I thought I said fix it, not make it worse,” Gibbs murmured as he walked past.

Tony resisted the urge to hit his forehead against the bloodied bathtub.

“David, you and I will go talk to his CO. DiNozzo, McGee, go pick up the brother.”

“Yes, boss.”

 

Another awkward car ride. Naturally the brother wasn’t home, so they ended up staking out the place. This week was shaping up to be an all around suckfest.

“You have to talk to me at some point,” Tony said eventually.

“Can we just not while we’re at work?” 

“Yeah. Sure. No problem,” Tony said sourly. “Let’s just sit here in tedious, painful silence for the next few hours.”

“Nothing to say,” McGee said bluntly.

“Really? That’s the line you’re going with?” Tony asked, nettled.

“Well what do you want me to say, Tony?”

“I don’t know, Tim, anything! We can’t spend the rest of our working lives not talking.”

McGee winced.

“Tony – “ he started but fell silent as a car pulled up and a man got out.

“Is that him?” Tony asked.

“That’s him.”

The guy took one look at them and ran, because it was that kind of week. One barbed wire fence and a ruined suit jacket later and they had the suspect cornered. 

"Why do they always have to run?" Tony moaned, glancing quickly down at the devastation to his one of a kind, bespoke tailored jacket. 

"Hey, at least you're getting some exercise, DiNozzo," McGee said, almost certainly intended as an off the cuff comment in their usual back and forth.

The obvious comeback was right there on Tony's tongue, loaded and ready to go: _some of us got plenty of exercise last night, thanks_. It was so obvious that Tony might as well have said it already. It hung there unspoken in the air between them. Judging by the way McGee blanched, he'd picked up on it.

"Shut up, Tim," Tony settled for and threw him the handcuffs.

The suspect had been simply kneeling there, all the fight apparently gone out of him and not giving them any trouble. Tony hadn't paid him much mind, distracted by the wreck of his suit and horrible conversation. Now he was trying to look anywhere but at McGee, and he realised that the suspect was sweating, eyes darting from side to side. His arms were tensing, grip on something behind his back as McGee came within reach. 

It all happened in a handful of seconds. "McGee!" Tony yelled even as the guy swept his arm round and up towards McGee's stomach, a flash of silver in his hand - _knife_. Tony was already squeezing the trigger as McGee brought his guard up on automatic to deflect the blow. The shot was true, hitting the guy clean in the shoulder. He dropped like a stone.

Tony kicked the knife away from where it had fallen to the ground, cuffed the guy and then searched him for more weapons. Once he was sure it was safe he turned back to McGee who was cradling his arm, blood pooling in between his fingers. 

"How bad is it?" Tony asked, queasy feeling in his stomach.

"It's not too deep," McGee said reassuringly. 

"I'm calling for an ambulance."

Tony flipped open his phone and dialled, ignoring Tim's protests. They sat down to wait, McGee starting to look a little pale in the midday sun. Paler than usual.

"Thanks. For having my back," McGee said after a little while.

"You don't ever have to thank me for that, Tim," Tony said and then they sat without speaking until the sirens sounded in the distance.

\----- 

Three hours after a not exactly routine pick up, yet another case was wrapped up. Suicide verdict, but the responsibility was all on the PCP the victim’s brother had been pushing. McGee was still getting stitches at the hospital, so it was up to Tony and Ziva to finish the paperwork on this one. Up on the mezzanine, the door to the Director’s office slammed followed by purposeful footsteps. Gibbs reappeared on the stairs, taking them at a light jog. Ziva took one look at Gibbs’ face and disappeared swiftly in the direction of Abby’s lab. 

“Coward,” Tony muttered.

“Tony,” Gibbs said and gestured for him to follow him to the conference room.

“Wouldya care to tell me why McGee is getting stitches, DiNozzo?”

“The guy had a knife, boss – “

"And neither of you thought to check before you tried to cuff him?"

"No excuses."

“Damn right, no excuses!" Gibbs slammed his fist down on the table. “That's a goddamn rookie mistake, DiNozzo." 

“It’s my fault.”

"It's both your faults. Whatever the hell's going on - fix it, Dinozzo. Today. Before one of you gets hurt worse than a cut.”

Tony swallowed.

"Already on my way, boss."

 

McGee wasn’t at home, but he was waiting outside Tony’s apartment, one arm bound in white bandages. He looked good in black jeans and teeshirt, which was apparently the kind of inexplicable and annoying thing that Tony was going to notice now.

“How’s the arm?” he asked as he unlocked the door.

“It's fine. Can I come in?” McGee asked.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“I don’t want to transfer, that’s what I came here to say,” McGee said as soon as the door shut, apparently choosing to linger in Tony’s cramped hallway instead of actually enter the apartment.

“Transfers? Who’s talking about transfers?” Tony asked, quietly freaking out.

“No one. Yet.”

“Yet? What, you’re planning on telling someone?” Tony asked, still freaking out but now on a different tack.

McGee shot him a withering look and leant back against the door with a sigh.

“Of course not, but eventually – “ he trailed off and shrugged.

“Woah. Eventually? I hate to shoot you down but *this*,” Tony gestured between them them, “isn’t exactly a committed long term relationship.”

“We haven’t exactly talked about what *this* is, Tony. For all I know, you’ve set a date,” McGee said snarkily.

Mental images assaulted him, some involving wedding dresses. 

“Never, ever say anything like that again,” Tony said with a shudder.

“Look, what I’m trying to say is that it would be a choice: the team, or – whatever this is. And for me that’s no contest.”

“Ouch, Tim. I mean,” he added hastily, seeing the panic flash in McGee’s eyes, “I completely agree, but still - brutal.”

McGee shrugged, looking relieved and not at all sorry.

"We can't work together like this, Tony. Today proved that."

Automatically, Tony glanced down at McGee's bandaged arm and then away. 

“I want the team back. Like we were,” McGee continued.

Tony nodded fervently.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Well. Good,” McGee said and then pushed away from the door to stand. “That’s sorted then.”

“Yeah. Glad we had this chat,” Tony said, wondering if it could really be that simple. It seemed unlikely. Really, really unlikely.

McGee twisted the door handle and then hesitated.

“We’re still friends, right?” he asked.

“What the hell kind of stupid question is that, Tim? Of course we’re still friends," Tony snapped.

“Okay,” McGee said, smiling properly this time as he stepped through the doorway.

“Hey, McGee,” Tony called after him.

“Yeah?” McGee asked cautiously.

“I was good, right?” Tony asked. “I mean, I know you don’t have a specific comparison, but on a general scale – “

McGee rolled his eyes. “Goodnight, Tony,” he said, still smiling, and left.

“Hey, that was a genuine question!” 

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes:
> 
> 1) Tony has various levels of UST with every member of the team, right? That's not just me?  
> 2) The ending totally snuck up on me. I didn't even see it coming just BAM and it was there.  
> 3) What is with Tony's creeper/stalker tendencies? I threw in a few elements almost directly from canon and had to take them out again because they were *too creepy*. Oh Tony, I love you and your myriad issues.  
> 4) Constructive criticism is gold.


End file.
